


My Sunshine When I'm Feeling Blue

by mintedpotters



Series: HP Universe [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Draco, Choking, Couch Sex, Dom Draco, Dom/sub Undertones, Living in Australia, M/M, Muggle Life, Past Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Riding, Smut, Sub Harry Potter, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 04:19:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6838789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintedpotters/pseuds/mintedpotters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Twelve years Post!War) After an awkward split with Ginny, Harry and his two sons - James and Arthur - move to Australia with Hermione and Ron. Using a Glamour and a false name, Harry finds work at an entertainment store, where he is faced with a handsome customer, a demanding little boy, and a meddling boss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Sunshine When I'm Feeling Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This work is unbeta'd - any and all typos are on me.  
> PLEASE READ THE TAGS - click away if anything in the tags could be a trigger. Everything in this fic is consensual.

**THE DAILY PROPHET - 8TH MAY 2008 - _Granger and Weasley to Tie The Knot.... To Other People!?_**

_Since the centennial celebrations exactly two weeks ago, the famous Granger-Weasley pair have been finalising their divorce. Sources close to the couple reveal that all was not sunshine and Kneazles._

_"I did warn her," says Lavender Brown, a long time school friend of Granger's. "I knew Ron wasn't good enough for her. She deserves more."_

_Unmistakeably, Miss Brown's confidence caused quite the stir, especially when the Saviour Harry Potter got wind of it. The Wizarding World's Golden Boy even offered to put forth a statement, something we all know he very rarely does. The last statement Mr Potter issued was on behalf of Mrs Narcissa Malfoy and the Malfoy heir._

_"Lavender means well," Harry claims. "But she has no idea what it's been like for us. Ron and Hermione have been through a lot of awful things, but they've always supported one another as friends. And divorce aside, that's how we'll remain. Friends and survivors."_

_///_

_Current Date: May 26th 2010_

Below the ridiculous article sat a photograph, but not of Hermione or Ron. One of Harry Potter, of course. In the picture, I was sitting across a table from Ginny, with our two sons, James and Arthur, sitting between us. The photograph had absolutely no relevance to the article, and I had to assume that's why they picked it. Nothing like the _Chosen One_ to help boost circulation, right? 

It'd been two years since that article had surfaced, and it had taken these last two years for the rumour mill to finally calm down. Ron and Hermione _had_ gone through with the divorce, but were still perfectly amicable. They had a daughter right before the split, Rosie, and Ron was dealing with parenthood far easier as Hermione's friend. They'd ended up moving away from England in the whirlwind after the war trials. They were now settled in Australia with Hermione's parents.

Now, I was _really_ regretting signing on for babysitting duties. 

"Teddy, no! You can't pull on Victoire's hair! No, Teddy!" I cried as my godson took up Victoire's plaits in his hands like reins. The little girl had been visiting with Bill and Fleur Weasley, who were currently off on a romantic date somewhere with cliffs.

"Why! Vicky does it to ME!" Teddy shouted back. 

"Because, Teddy, you're bigger than she is. You'll hurt her." I reasoned. I took the little girl's hair from Teddy, and then turned her around to face him. "Apologise now, both of you." 

"Sorry, Vicky." Teddy mumbled. 

"Sorry, Ted." Victoire responded, with her mother's French lilt colouring her words. 

"Better. Now, go play, and _no more hair pulling!"_ I shouted as the two troublesome children bolted off. 

Twelve year olds were difficult, I decided. Although, a six year old and two four year olds were just as bad. I cast a _Tempus_ charm and sighed with relief at seeing the time. 4:35pm. Hermione would be home from her meeting soon. 

"James! Artie! Rosie!" I yelled and smiled when I heard the thundering of small feet on wooden stairs. 

"Yeah Dad?" James asked, out of breath, as he ran round the corner. 

"Aunt Mione will be home soon. I think its time to start cleaning up, don't you?" I said. 

"Dad can't we sleep over?!" Artie whined. 

"Sorry, bud. You know you have to ask Auntie three whole days before a sleepover." I crouched to face my youngest son. He'd inherited my green eyes, and for a moment I had the disconcerting thought of seeing my own younger self right in front of me again. 

"I know..." Artie sighed heavily. 

"Hey, tell you what though. You go up and help tidy, and we can stop at Baskin Robbins's tomorrow morning." I negotiated. Artie lit up and ran off, dragging his brother and cousin along with him. 

I smiled fondly as I watched them go, and then turned to call Teddy and Victoire back inside.

///

_Current Date: 23rd August 2010_

It was Ron's turn to mind the kids, and he did so grudgingly while Hermione went off to work and I went off to _find_ work. 

I placed a glamour over my face, hiding my scar and darkening the colour of my eyes to a deep hazel. I'd grown my hair out since the war, and I tied it up in a sloppy bun. The scar and the eyes were my most recognisable features now, and I didn't want to be recognised. Even in Australia, the Harry Potter madness was still at a peak. 

I'd created a portfolio for a pseudonym, John Evans, and went about looking for work in the Muggle parts of Darwin, Australia. I tried bookstores and sports stores and all manner of retail and produce stores I could find, but I never heard back from any of them. Until I found myself stopped in front of a music store. 

The shop front was open, and a portable shelf sat in the center, displaying CD's by a large variety of Muggle bands. A white CD case with a black star printed on it caught my eye and I moved to read the artist name. _David Bowie's Greatest Hits, Vol 1._ I grinned; my boys would love this. 

To my right, one side of the doorway had been crafted to resemble a piano, the black and white keys stacking from floor to ceiling. Above the doorway, a sign proclaimed the shop to be _The Sound of Music,_ which was another thing for me to smile about. 

I glanced up to see racks of guitars hanging from the ceiling, and my eyes roamed over each one, the differences in the shape, colours, patterns - oh Merlin, there's a bloody snake one in _green and black!_ Malfoy would've had a _fit!_ \- and then my musings were interrupted as a salesman came to stand in front of me.

"Can I help you?" The man asked. He was tall, and really quite handsome, but he reminded me too much of Cedric, so I didn't let my mind wander. 

"Hi, yes, I'm looking for jobs around town. I was wondering if you were hiring?" I asked, hopeful. 

"We're not officially hiring right now, but there's a record shop just down the way there. It's called _Insanity._ Great shop, really. Pay ain't bad either. Check them, and if they're not hiring, come back down here. Could always use a shopkeep." The bloke said, and abruptly all resemblance to Cedric Diggory was gone. Cedric would never have spoken so harshly. 

"Alright, thanks." I said. 

"Oi, what's your name?" The man asked just before I could make my escape. 

"John. You?" 

"Jeremy. Nice to meet you." We shook hands and I continued on. I found _Insanity,_ all right. nestled between a gaming shop and a home-ware store. I stepped inside, and took a moment to look over the shelves. _Insanity_ not only sold music (and a pretty nice selection at that), but also Muggle films and television shows on DVD's. I looked around and started when I saw a television show named _Merlin._ Just his luck! I picked up the box containing the first season, and flipped it over to read the summary. 

"Like a bit of magic, do you?" A friendly voice chirped beside me, and I spun to face a tall dirty-blonde man, probably no older than nineteen. 

"Yeah you can say that. My kids adore it, see." I explained, happy in the knowledge it wasn't a lie at all. 

"You've got kids? You don't look like a dad." The guy noted. 

"Three boys. Twelve, six and four." I said, sighing. 

"Oh man, all the problem ages at once. I feel for you." The worker - for now I could see he wore the shops' uniform - clutched his chest dramatically, and I grinned in response. "That all for you today, sir?"

"So, there's a bit more than just the show, actually. I was wondering if you were hiring? Jeremy from _Sound of Music_ said you were." I said as I took the first season to the counter to pay. 

"Ah! Yeah, man, we're still hiring. You interested?" The worker asked. I beamed and nodded eagerly. "Great! Let me just get your details so we can contact you for an interview, yeah?" 

"Yeah." I scribbled out my address and phone number. Moving to a mostly-Muggle part of Australia had been good for all of us. I now had a mobile and a home phone, a laptop, a TV, a DVD player, and a discounted Netflix connection (thanks, Hermione), all set up in my house. All of these were shielded to work alongside magic, even that as unsteady as a child's inexperienced magic. 

"Cool. So, Mr John Evans, let's hope we'll see each other again." The guy, whose name I now knew was Kyle, grinned and shook my hand. 

I walked back to my car (oh yes, the Great Harry Potter drove a car. A silver Prius, at that. Merlin, Godric and Salazar combined, have mercy), and drove home. I had moved into a gorgeous house in Nightcliff, only a two minute drive from Hermione's house. Ron lived a couple blocks down, somehow managing to find a house just between mine and Hermione's. 

As per usual, I drive to Hermione's first, to stop in and save Ron from the horrors of small children. 

"Home!" I shout as I walk through the front door. 

"DAD!" Despite James being the one who yelled, Teddy is the first to reach me, his hair turning black around his blue streaks. 

"Hey, Ted!" I bend slightly to hug him; it's a testament to his genes that at just twelve years old, he's already taller than me. 

Just as I pull away from greeting my godson, my boys rush over and almost tackle me over with a combined hug of their own. 

"Hullo lads, miss me?" I greet them cheerfully. Arthur lifts his slightly-chubby arms and waits for me to lift him. I do, with an exaggerated groan and lots of complaints about being old. 

"You're not _old!_ Uncle's _old!"_ Artie tell him seriously. 

"OI! Uncle heard that!" Ron warns lightly. "Cheers mate." He says as I summon him a beer. He has Rosie in his arms, and she's fast asleep. 

"Gonna put her down any time soon?" I ask, nodding toward the child. 

"Nah, minute her head hits the pillow, she's up and screaming again. Impossible, just like her mother, I'll tell you." Ron sighs, aggrieved. 

"It's okay, Won Won, at least Lav Lav stopped selling your stories to the press." I say, a mocking tone in my voice. Lavender Brown had cheerfully taken part in a scarily large number of interviews since the Centennial article, all of them touching on her past relationship with Ron and how Lavender always knew Hermione _must_ have been after him for his best mate's fame. 

"Ugh, please, AK me before I read another single word written by that vulture." Ron complained. 

"Boys, go pack up whatever you've left out, yeah? We can head home soon as Auntie gets back." I told the children hanging off my frame. Artie tried to leap from my arms to Teddy's, but I made him wait til his cousin was at least paying attention. 

The three boys headed down the hall to the bedroom, and I sat on the couch with Ron. 

"Ginny wrote me" Ron starts. "She's back in England now, her and Charlie." Ron's tiptoeing. I remember it from school. He would start on a completely unrelated tangent, and then when you weren't ready, he'd drop the real bomb right on your head. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Hermione's pregnant." Ron groaned. 

"RON!" I'm shocked and yet, somehow unsurprised. 

"What?!" 

"You swore not to-"

"It's not mine, Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "She went and did that Muggle thing, y'know, with the needles and stuff?" 

"Artificial insemination?" I ask. 

"Yeah, that!" Ron points at me, grinning madly that I'd remembered the term for him. "She wanted another baby, but she _didn't_ want me involved this time." 

"So it's not yours?" I ask, just to clarify. 

"No. This one's all Mione. And... well... whichever bastard donated his spunk." Ron grimaced. 

"Probably a Muggle." I shrug. "Wonder if she'll keep it?" 

"She might. You know her. Even if turned out to be Filch's baby, she'd still keep it." 

"Okay, mate, that is _enough_ beer for you. And for the love of Merlin, do  _not_ mention Filch, spunk, and Hermione in the same conversation, _ever again."_ I whine, shaking my head as I take Ron's empty beer bottle. 

"Gotcha. I don't think I realised what I was saying, but now I think I'm gonna need to puke and then sanitise myself from the inside out." Ron turns slightly green, and I laugh. 

Hermione gets home shortly after, and I'm on my feet, hugging her before she can even say hello. 

"Congratulations, you." I say, my finger tapping her hip as I pull back. She's grinning and her eyes are sparkling, and if I were anyone else, I'd be tempted to kiss her. 

But as it is, Hermione's like my sister. It just wouldn't be on. 

"How're the kids?" She asks as she sets down her bag. 

"Ted's supposedly helping the boys pack up; Rosie's with Ron; Bill and Fleur are leaving later today, so Vicky's with them." I rattle off. 

"Good. Oh, how's the job hunt going?" Hermione asks as Ron walks into the kitchen to join us. 

"I asked in to this music store, and they weren't hiring, but this record store down the strip _is_ hiring, so I talked to Kyle - one of the workers - and he's going to set up an interview." I tell them, proud of myself. 

"Awesome! That means you've got discount privileges." Hermione grins. "I heard David Bowie has a Greatest Hits collection?" 

"Yeah, I saw it this afternoon. Oh! You'll never guess what show I found!" I exclaim, grinning madly now that I've remembered. "It's called _Merlin!"_

"Wait, _Merlin?"_ Hermione furrows her brow. "Oh! The one with the knights and such! I remember now." 

"Muggles made a TV show about Merlin?" Ron asks, perplexed. 

"Well, it's not exactly _THE_ Merlin, Ron, but it is based on the man himself." Hermione tells him. 

"Ah. Did you buy it?" He asks me, and I nod. 

"Yeah, it's in the car. I was going to wait til this weekend to watch it though. Andromeda's insisting that Teddy being here for summer holidays is a _bad_ thing." I roll my eyes. I love Andromeda, really I do, but her insistence that Teddy remain in England the full twelve months is starting to seem a little intense. 

"You could always go back with him?" Hermione suggests, like she does every time I prepare to send Teddy back to England. 

"And leave the boys? No, Hermione. Teddy's going by Portkey this year; Andromeda sorted it with the Australian Ministry." I sigh. The Ministry here is good, but their International Affairs Department was always kind of lacking. 

"What about Ginny?" Ron asks suddenly. 

"What _about_ Ginny?" I ask cautiously. 

"She could take the boys for the weekend! You take the lads back over, leave them with her for a bit, and-"

"Are you forgetting the part where the boys have lived here for the last three and a half years, and neither of them even _remember_ Ginny?" I point out. 

"Harry, she's their _mum-"_ Ron starts, but I hold my hand up to cut him off. 

"Look, James is at school, Artie's in preschool. They've both got friends here, their teachers love them... I can't uproot them just so I can get out of the country. That's not fair." I say. "Besides, you really want to try accusing me of keeping my boys away from her, when _she's_ the one who ran out on us?" 

Ginny and I never actually married, and our oldest son had been a happy accident. Arthur came two years after as a complete shock to everyone, myself and Ginny included. We'd been informed that Ginny's reproductive system would be too weak to carry another child after James.

After Arthur was born in 2006, Ginny had decided to leave the Ministry. She'd been working for Kingsley as a consultant, although Merlin only knew what she consulted _on._ A few months later, she announced she was going travelling with her brother Charlie. I had borne the responsibility of raising two sons alone, and Ginny had left during the night. So I packed up my own life, picked up my sons and moved the family to Australia.

"Yeah, I know, mate." Ron sighs. Hermione looks tense beside him, so he hands Rosie over to her. 

"Besides, I don't think I'm quite ready to go back to England. Not quite yet." I say, shaking my head. 

"Fair enough, mate. Now, I reckon those boys of yours got distracted and started playing again, didn't they?" Ron raises his voice to be heard in the bedroom, and I smile as I hear my boys rushing about to pack up for real this time. 

///

_Current Date: 14th September 2010_

Teddy is back at Hogwarts, James is in class, Artie is at preschool, and I am starting my longest shift ever at _Insanity_ since I started working here last week. 

Inventory is dull, but I think Hermione must've rubbed off on me sometime over the last seventeen years, since I find myself actually enjoying the constant organising. Its become my job to separate the discs from their cases, put them in the correct sheaths, and order them neatly on the rows of alphabetised shelving behind the cashier's counter. I also assist with swapping out the sale banners for advertisements when needed. 

Today, I'm the only one on call; Kyle, who really is a sweetheart, had to take a month off to take care of his Gran; Jenny, the lucky tart, is at home being doted on by her fiance for her birthday; Alexis, the manager, had decided to entrust the store to me. 

I take my job seriously, of course I do. I was an Auror for four years after the war, I'm trained in surveillance. (I say this, but look who never catches Artie sneaking away with extra Tim-Tams after dinner). So what are the odds, that someone with my training and my skill set could ever be snuck up on? 

"Hello?!" A customer's voice calls, and I jump, dropping the handful of discs I held. I can't even use a Cushioning Charm to stop them from hitting the floor; Hermione tells me using magic around the discs corrupts them. I'm tempted to believe her. 

"One moment please!" I call back, remembering to sound as cheerful as I can. Discreetly, I check the security camera footage on the screen behind the counter. A tall man stands just back from the counter. He wears one of those fancy Muggle suits, probably from the gentlemen's stores down the way. I remind myself I really ought to get something for myself from there, but I often forget. A small child is tugging aggressively at the customer's arm, and I have to assume the child is his, since it seems to be gathering no response. 

I walk towards the counter, holding tightly to my sunny disposition recommended for dealing with customers. I glance over and nearly stop dead. 

_What the hell is Draco bloody Malfoy doing in Australia?!_

"May I help you?" I ask cheerily, not letting on that I recognise him. I'm still using my glamour, and for once, I'm happy of it. 

"Er, yes, thanks, my son-" The child in question tugs _hard_ on his father's arm, and I'm surprised I don't hear the bone pop from it's socket. "Hey! You behave, or we go home." Malfoy warns the boy, who just keeps acting up. 

"How old?" I ask before I can stop myself. Malfoy gives me a weird look, and I'm almost sure I blush. "I have three boys of my own. Bloody nightmares." I chuckle by way of explaining. 

"Ah, yes well... He's four. Five next week." Malfoy looks down at the pouting child, and I take the time to study him. He's still pale as ever, but his pointy face has softened somewhat and his severe grey eyes had turned lighter. His white-blonde hair, always so recognisable, is gone; he's dyed it to a soft almond brown. It looks nice, I suppose. 

"So, what can I do for you?" I ask, shaking out of my reverie. He looks at me again, and there's a flash of something in his eye, but I don't know what it is. "New music, a new show, perhaps? We have some lovely posters in, just arrived last night." I ramble, wanting to distract from what I now fear is _recognition_ in Malfoy's gaze. 

"Scorpius? Tell the kind man what you'd like for your birthday?" Malfoy turns the question to his son, and I know it's a distraction tactic. 

I make sure to strengthen my glamour as I turn to the small boy now staring up at me with eyes like his father's. 

"I want magic!" Scorpius ( _really Malfoy? **Scorpius?** The child will be traumatised) _demands quite loudly. 

"Oh, don't we all!" I laugh. I walk around from the counter, leading them over to the television section. "Now, what kind of magic do you like?" 

"The kind that explodes stuff!" Scorpius tells me. I refrain from rolling my eyes, and instead I pull out three of my favourite magical shows. One is, of course, Merlin, which puts an interesting smirk on Malfoy's face. The second is _Sabrina The Teenage Witch: The Animated Series_ \- Hermione had it playing for Rosie, and Artie had fallen in love with it, so I'd bought it as well. Now I can't get rid of it. 

The third is _The Magic School Bus._

Malfoy's eyebrow raises critically at that, but I stand firm, and explain each of the three shows to Scorpius (and his father) as we walk back towards the counter. 

"Wait, the bus gets _inside you?"_ Scorpius asks in wonder. His grey eyes are shining and I smile at him as encouragingly as possible. 

"Yep, it shrinks down super small, and then you _gobble it up!"_ I use the same 'gobble' voice for him as I do for my own sons, and it makes Scorpius laugh just as hard, thankfully. 

"What do they do in there?!" Scorpius gasps once he's finished laughing, and looks down to prod a finger against his own tummy. 

"You know what my boys think they do?" I whisper to him, a secretive look on my face captures his attention immediately. "My boys think they go into little boys and girls' tummies to make sure they're really eating all their dinner, and not giving it away to the pup under the table." 

"Do you think they're right?" Scorpius asks me in a whisper softer than my own. 

"I think they're absolutely right. And little boys and girls should always eat all their dinners, shouldn't they?" I ask, and Scorpius nods his head eagerly. Then he turns to his father. 

"Daddy, can I have the one about the magic school bus? _Please?!_ I'll be super good and I'll even eat all my dinner!" He bargains. I hide a grin behind my hand and think with certainty that Malfoy's definitely got himself another little Slytherin to raise. 

"How much for the magic school bus?" Malfoy drawls as he steps forward, much to Scorpius' delight. 

"Twenty-five dollars, sixty cents." I say, turning from them to find the discs on the wall. 

"Twenty-five sixty?!" Malfoy asks behind me, sounding scandalised. 

"Yes? Why, don't you have that much?" I ask. _Thought you and your ilk ate off plates of pure silver, you bloody ponce,_ my fifteen year old self threatens to say. 

"I, uh... I travel a lot, and sometimes I forget to switch my currency. I may have to go and exchange it." Malfoy stammers before righting himself. 

"Hm, alright, don't get your robes in a twist." I say, just loud enough for him to hear. 

"Don't get what?" He snaps, looking at me sharply. 

"We are permitted to perform some exchanges here, you know. I just have to find you the right currency. Kyle keeps everything under Knut and Sickle here, honestly." I sigh, sounding put-upon, waiting for Malfoy to get the hint. 

I can tell, the moment he gets it, because his hand fists in the front of my uniform and tugs me forward over the counter. 

"Sir?" I ask, sounding unsure. This is assault, and I could have him arrested, but I won't. 

"What do you think you're playing at? Find an interesting book somewhere? Run into the wrong part of town?" Malfoy hisses. 

 _The glamour hides you magical signature you dimwit,_ a piece of my brain that sounds uncomfortably like Ginny interrupts me. 

"Ah, no, sorry. I can see where I must've gotten mixed up. I almost feel like someone else today." I sigh again, and Malfoy releases me. His eyes are narrowed now. Scorpius watches us curiously. 

"Daddy?" He pipes up. "Do you need your soft stone?" He asks gently. 

"Yes please, Scorpius." Malfoy says tightly, and I keep my eyes on him as Scorpius fetches something from the depths of his pocket. He hands over a smooth iridescent stone, and Malfoy takes it within his palms. 

"I'm sorry, I don't seem to be very good at staying collected today. Ghosts of my past, if you will, seem to have found me." Malfoy says. 

"That's quite alright. We all have our own dragons to slay, bad faith to put to rest." I reply, deliberately using the translations of his name. "Besides, this place is literally called _Insanity._ Not a surprise, is it?" 

I ring up the box for _The Magic School Bus_ and then fish in my own pocket. 

"Don't worry about exchanging. Currency conversion takes forever. This one's on me." I say, taking out the exact amount needed from my wallet. I hate keeping change. 

"And who may I thank for this generous assistance?" Malfoy asks, somewhat suspiciously. 

"John Evans." The glamour drops for a millisecond over my irises, showing their brilliant green to Malfoy, before they're hidden again. "Hope we'll see you soon, Mister....?" 

"Black. Damien Black." He says, reaching a hand forward to shake. I'm transported in my mind back to first year of Hogwarts, on the train, and being confronted by a snooty little pureblood brat. The difference is astounding, and I only hesitate a moment before taking his hand this time and shaking it. 

"Til next time then, Mister Black." I say. 

"Next time, Mister Evans." He concurs. Then, his purchase in one hand and his son death-gripping the other, he turns and walks out of my shop. 

Like I said before. I am a master of surveillance. No one ever sneaks up on me. 

No one except Malfoy.

///

_Current Date: 14th September 2010_

"So, you're never going to guess who stopped by the shop today." I say as I sip my beer with Ron. James, Artie and Rosie are watching _Sabrina the Teenage Witch_ on the television while Ron and I sit together at the dining table. 

"No idea, mate." Ron says. 

"Malfoy." 

"What?!" 

"Yeah, I know! I was just as shocked as you, mate, trust me. Bloody weird too. He's going by Black." I tell him. "He's got a kid, too. Little boy, about Artie's age, I reckon." 

"That poor kid!" Ron grins unashamedly. 

"Should've seen it; I swear he could pull an arm right out of its socket!" I laugh, remembering the grip Scorpius had on his dad's arm. 

"Vicious little thing, or...?" Ron asks. 

"Nah, pretty harmless. Just really demanding." I take another drink. 

"Well, yeah, look who his dad is." Ron concedes. 

We sit in silence for a moment, until... 

"Wait, you said he was going by Black?" Ron asks. I nod, and he pulls out his phone. Its one of Hermione's greatest achievements, teaching Ron Weasley how to operate a Muggle smartphone without accidentally calling the emergency services. 

Ron turns the screen to me after a moment, and I have to stop my jaw from hitting the floor. The man on the screen is _definitely_ Malfoy, but... its not? 

"Damien Black... he's a model?!" I gasp, looking back up at Ron. 

"And a musician. Go look through your store, mate, you'll have a few of his albums in there." Ron says, taking his phone back and tucking it back into his pocket. 

"Wow..." I say, sitting back in my chair. I'm shocked, and so I take another sip of my beer. Ron watches me warily. He thinks I'll start obsessing over Malfoy again, I can tell. That's his 'don't do something stupid' look. I hate that look. 

The sound of children arguing makes us look over, and sure enough, James and Artie are fighting again. 

"Boys! What's going on here?" I bark. The boys look over at me briefly before glaring at each other again. 

"He's being dumb!" Artie cries out. 

"He's being annoying!" James yells in answer. 

"And you're _both_ doing my head in, so hush it and talk it out like Auntie taught you." I tell them. They both grumble and groan, but their fighting stops, and I sigh. I love my boys, honestly I do, but the constant arguments make me tired. I wouldn't trade them for the world, though. 

"Daddy?" Rosie's little voice chirps up, and Ron's on his feet and moving before she can say another word. 

"What is it, baby?" He croons. 

"Sore tummy." She sniffs. Ron picks her up. 

"Alright, sweetheart, let's give you some medicine, okay?" Ron says, carrying her toward the bathroom, where Hermione keeps all of her medicines (Muggle and magical) hidden in a cabinet. 

I sit in the quiet and listen to my boys talking, glad to hear they seem to be over their little tiff. 

///

**THE DAILY PROPHET - 26th JULY 1998 - _Malfoy Heir Apparent MISSING?_**

_The Malfoy family trial just a week past, and now Mister Draco Malfoy has vanished! Many people have their own beliefs as to what has become of the Malfoy scion, but sources close to Mrs Narcissa Malfoy - Mister Malfoy's mother - say that the boy has simply chosen to live his days in peace._

_"Mister Malfoy was greatly traumatised by the events of the last three years, and has chosen to live outside of the magical community in England." Our source claims. "I have it on the highest authority that Mister Malfoy seeks to absolve himself of his transgressions, and to pay back his life debts to our Saviour."_

_Is this the truth? Is Draco Malfoy really hiding away, seeking forgiveness for what he's done? And if so, will he ever return to England, a changed man? Dear readers, this particular writer sincerely hopes so._

///

_Current Date: 25th September 2010_

"Good morning!" I greet as I walk up to Alexis this morning. "Good birthday?" I ask, nodding toward the mess of purpling bite marks on her throat. 

"Oh no..." She groans, bringing a hand up to cover the side of her neck. 

"It's alright, we've all been there." I chuckle. 

"Have you now? I haven't seen any maul marks on _you_ lately." She teases. 

"Not many single guys willing to take on children, Alexis." I smile. "Besides, what's the point? I don't have time for dating." 

"My dear Johnny boy, who ever said anything about dating?" Alexis purrs, and I laugh. 

We open shop together, sorting the DVD's on their racks and organising the disc packs again (we got a new trainee last week who seems unable to alphabetise, so everything is a mess). Eventually, we get everything set up for another day, and Alexis nips off to grab the morning coffee. 

I wheel over one of the chairs from Alexis' admin office, and sit behind the counter, tossing my legs up. Movement catches my eye and I turn to face it, pulling a smile on as I see it's the first customer of the day. 

"Good morning!" I call out, watching as the customer stops in their tracks. 

"Morning." A scratchy voice answers. The customer walks towards the counter and I try not to start as I recognise Malfoy. He's got a cut lip and a dark bruise swelling under his jaw. 

"Are you alright?" I ask, concerned. And isn't that just novel. I'm concerned for Draco Malfoy, after twelve years... Odd. 

"'M fine. I noticed you're playing my album." Malfoy points up with his chin. I nod; it had been my turn to pick the PA music today, and I'd found one of 'Damien Black's albums in the stacks. 

"Yeah, it's good music. Didn't recognise you at first, I guess." I say. 

"Thanks." Malfoy nods. "At least _someone_ doesn't; honestly, if it weren't for the recognition problem, I'd be going home right now." 

"Oh?" I say, not having much else to fall back on without revealing myself. 

"Yeah, it's a bit ridiculous, really. You know, I can't even buy pants without someone stopping me for an autograph." He sighs heavily. I have to force myself to choke down the flurry of indignant comments about having to endure the same drama my whole life. It would not do for him to start asking questions. 

"That really is ridiculous. Is that why you dyed your hair?" I ask before I can stop myself. 

"How'd you know I dyed it?" Malfoy asks sharply. I improvise. 

"Your eyebrows. They're too light in comparison." I say. 

"You've got a good eye." 

"I just have a knack for noticing things." I shrug. 

"Do you also have a knack for forgetting things?" He asks, and I glance at him in confusion. "You haven't shaved." He says, watching as I run a hand over the stubble on my jaw. 

"Kids, remember. Absolute nightmare. My oldest... well technically he's my godson, so I don't know if that counts... anyway, he's away at this boarding school in Scotland - his grandmother insisted on it - but the two younger ones... It's a miracle if I remember pants on a good day." I say, running a hand through my hair now. 

"I've only got the one, but he is more than enough for me." Malfoy sighs. "Never thought I'd have even one kid, actually. He was a bit of a surprise." 

"Same here. My ex... the doctors told her she wouldn't even be able to carry a second child, and so little Artie was a surprise for sure." I grin. "Best surprise of my life though." 

"I agree. As irritating and demanding as my son can be... I wouldn't give him up for anything." Malfoy smiles now, and it softens his face even further. I find myself almost staring. 

"JOHNNY BOY! I come bearing caffeine! Love and adore me!" Alexis shouts, walking back into the store with two coffees in hand. 

"Lexis you are my one true love." I say dramatically. "The light of my life, the sun of my sky, the center of my universe-" 

"Get off me, you lug!" She laughs. "Take your latte and behave." She hands me my coffee, and I thank her. She kisses my cheek in answer. 

"Wait, is that? Are you?" Alexis looks between Malfoy and myself, her eyebrows raised. 

"Alexis, no." I tell her, knowing a blush is creeping up my neck the longer she stares. 

"Johnny, I keep telling you. You're a fine piece of ass, and any bloke would be lucky to have you, so you get this cutie's number or I'll get it _for you."_ Alexis threatens, and I bury my face in my hands out of sheer embarrassment. God, Malfoy is right there, and Alexis just bloody outed me. 

"No need for threats. I was actually here to make John an offer." Malfoy says, and my head comes up so fast I pull on a nerve in my neck. 

"Oooooh! Johnny, lookit! But if you come in to work tomorrow covered in bite marks, I will have to throw a party." Alexis says seriously, and I groan, dropping my head again. 

"My offer, was one of dinner." Malfoy speaks up again, and I raise my head _slowly_ to look at him this time. "You paid for my son's birthday present - which he loves, by the way, thank you - and so I wanted to return the favour." 

"By taking me to dinner?" I say, raising an eyebrow. 

"He'd love to." Alexis jumps in for me again. "Now this is the part where you exchange numbers so I can claim a job done." 

"Lex? I bloody hate you sometimes." I groan. 

"I dunno, she's kind of growing on me." Malfoy says. 

"How am I not surprised?" I sigh. "Alright, what's your number?" 

He rattles off his digits, and I reply in kind with my own, and he promises to call me during my lunch hour to make dinner plans. Then he turns and walks out of the store. 

"Did I just agree to a date?" I ask aloud once Malfoy is gone. 

"Yep!" Alexis grins. "Oh honey, I am so damn proud of you!" 

"Get off me, woman!" I laugh as she flings herself upon me in a giant heap. 

"Nah, you're comfy." She's laughing now too, and I can't help but join her. I give her a fast hug and shove her off my lap, telling her to go back to her actual job. 

The rest of the morning passes uneventfully. 

My lunch hour contains a call from Malfoy, deciding on a restaurant for dinner. Its a cute little Italian place in the city center, named Salvatores, and Malfoy apparently swears by it. The only issue is his son. 

"I don't usually go anywhere without him, so we don't ever really bother with babysitters and the like, you know?" He says, sighing. 

"My best friends usually take care of my boys, I could ask if they'd be willing to look after Scorpius as well." I offer. 

"That's really sweet of you, John, thank you. I'd appreciate it, but if they can't take Scorpius, it's alright. I've been told I'm a pretty decent cook. We could easily have dinner at my place?" 

"A home cooked meal is always best when shared." I say, quoting something I heard Molly Weasley say the last time I ate with her. 

"I agree. So shall we have dinner at my home instead? I can text you the address? It'll certainly be cheaper than Salvatores." Malfoy offers. 

"That sounds great, I'd love to." I say, smiling genuinely. I'm surprised to find I'm actually looking forward to this. 

"Excellent, well I'll text you the address and a time, alright? I have to go now, though; Scorpius is awake." Malfoy sighs. "But I'll see you tonight?" 

"Yeah, definitely. See you tonight, Damien." 

"See you, John." 

We hang up, and I sit for a moment, staring at my phone. The screen lights up again after a moment with a text from Malfoy. 

_28 Bagot Road. 8:30pm. Wear something cute_

Smiling to myself, I text back ( _'Looking forward to it, see you tonight')_ and put my phone away just in time for the post-lunch wave of shoppers. 

///

I'm at home, hunting through my wardrobe. Finally, I find what I was looking for; a forest green long sleeved button-down shirt. I throw it on my bed with my favourite black jeans and then head for the shower. 

Hermione and Ron have the kids for the night, and Artie's delighted to spend more time with his favourite auntie. My friends' minds were absolutely boggled when I told them I had a date with Malfoy, and even more so when I said I was looking forward to it. 

"But I don't get it, Harry. After everything-" Hermione had said. 

"After everything, Malfoy's had a son, a modelling career and a music career, without anyone back home being any the wiser. He's changed, Mione." I swore to her. "If he's anything like the little ferret he used to be, I'll leave, I promise." 

"You'd better." Hermione warned. 

And now, I'm getting ready to go to Malfoy's house and eat dinner with him, that _he cooked,_ as recompense for paying for Scorpius' birthday present. And I'm eager for it. 

I take my time in the shower, taking care to wash and actually _shave_ this time instead of just skating over my face with a Shaving Charm and hoping it'll work. 

Once I'm out of the shower, I dry off quickly with a drying charm and return to my room to start getting dressed. A _Tempus_ charm shows that its now 7:15pm. I have plenty of time, so I check the directions in my phone, wanting to be on time and at the right place. Surprisingly, Malfoy's address is only ten minutes away from my own. I smile, realising how ridiculous this all is. 

Since I have time to spare, I waste a little time trying to organise my hair (to no avail) before casting my glamour once more. 

If all went well tonight, I wouldn't be using it as much. 

///

I pull up in front of Malfoy's house with five minutes to spare, and let myself in the gate. I walk up to his front door and ring the doorbell, and then I wait. 

Only a minute later, Malfoy flings the door open, and I smile automatically upon seeing him. 

"Sorry, I know I'm a bit early-" 

"No, no, it's fine. Come in." He steps aside and waves me into his home. I walk in and take a moment to look around, smiling as I see the sheer number of photos of Malfoy and his son. 

"Is he in bed?" I ask. 

"Finally." Malfoy sighs. "He knew I was having you over tonight. He wanted to talk to you about his show." 

"I wouldn't have minded; I'm used to children chattering at me." I smile. 

"Yes, I suppose so. Anyway, shall we eat?" Malfoy lead the way to his dining area, and I followed quickly. 

I take a seat at the modest table, and watch as Malfoy fetches last minute cutlery and glasses. I zone out slightly as he does so, listening in case I need to reply, but not paying full attention. 

I'm brought out of my reverie as a newspaper falls heavily on the table in front of me. 

**THE DAILY PROPHET - 31st JULY 2010 - _Happy Birthday Harry Potter!_**

_The Saviour of the Wizarding World has officially left his 20's behind! Rumour has it Potter relocated to the Continent after the Death Eater Trials, featuring the infamous Malfoy Trial, at which Potter spoke in defense of Narcissa and Draco Malfoy._

_Ms Ginevra Weasley, Mr Potter's partner and the mother of his two children, has been unavailable for comment._

_A source close to the Weasley family claims that though Mr Potter has vanished seemingly without a trace, there is no bad blood to speak of between the family members. One of our investigative journalists attempted to reach Mr Potter's Muggle relatives earlier this week, but were greeted by a foul tempered old man and a slammed door._

_Has the Chosen One decided to turn over a new leaf somewhere in the Muggle world? It seems likely. According to their own claim, not even the closest friends of Mr Potter - Ms Hermione Granger and Mr Ronald Weasley - have been in touch with our Saviour._

_We can only wish him the most sincere happiness on this day._

_Harry Birthday, Harry Potter._

///

"Harry Potter? Who's he?" I ask, clamping down tightly on the string of nerves lighting up inside my chest. 

"As if you don't know." Malfoy hisses. "How long did you think it would take for me to connect 'Evans' to 'Potter'?" Malfoy says, waving a hand imperiously. "And all that talk in the Muggle shop about Knuts and Sickles and robes... You may as well have written 'wizard' on your forehead!" 

"In case you didn't realise, that was intentional. And like you can lecture me, _Malfoy._ What's with the dyed hair and music career and, oh I don't know, _living in Muggle Darwin?"_ I hiss, not willing to let Malfoy rile me into a shouting match. 

"First rule of being undercover; you need a cover story." Malfoy shakes his head. "What are _you_ doing in Muggle Darwin? I figured you'd be home, making more and more little mini-Potters." 

"Too much recognition." I say bluntly. "Well, if this was your idea of a dinner date, Malfoy, I must say I'm rather disappointed. I'll be leaving, then." I stand from the table and begin to walk for the door, but he stops me. 

"I invited you for a meal, Harry, so sit down and eat it." Malfoy snaps. I stop, simply because he used my first name, and gods, its been so long since someone other than Ron and Hermione have called me _Harry..._

"You said 'Harry'. When have I ever been 'Harry' to you?" I ask, my eyes narrowing. 

"Since fourth year, you prat, you just didn't want to hear it at that point." Malfoy says, sounding tired. 

"Alright, fine." I say, taking my seat again. 

"Thank you. Now, shall we eat?" He asks rhetorically, waving his wand to summon our food. Within seconds, we each have a bowl of steaming pasta in front of us. 

"Looks good. I didn't know you cooked." I say casually, trying to move away from the awkward topic at hand. 

"I didn't expect you to know. It's not as if dinner dates were the norm for us." Malfoy answers easily. 

"So what changed?" I ask. 

"I assume you mean, why did I invite you round for dinner in the first place?" 

"Precisely." 

"I was tired of waiting." Malfoy says simply. 

"What were you waiting for?" I ask him, confused and intrigued in equal measure. 

"For you to see me as _Draco,_ not as _Malfoy,_ or _ferret face_ or whatever else you used to call me." He says. "Clearly we're not yet at that stage, but I had hoped this would be a step in the right direction." 

"Why does it matter how I think of you?" I ask before I can think it through. His eyes narrow at me and I take a long gulp of my wine. 

"It's always mattered what you think, Harry." He says instead. "Why did you think I was so awful to you all the time?" 

"Because you were a prat, and you hated me?" I suggest. 

"How about, because I was a prat, and I was jealous that Weasley and Granger were in your immediate circle, instead of me." He says, shrugging as though he hadn't just dropped a bombshell of information in my lap. 

"So everything you did was simply out of spite?" I ask, not entirely believing him just yet. 

"Basically. Well... everything up to fifth year." He amends. "I was a bit preoccupied in sixth year, to be honest." 

"And I was very preoccupied in fifth, thanks." I say. 

"Oh yes, your tryst with the Weaslette. I forgot." Malfoy smiles slightly. 

"On top of having a megalomaniac residing in my head, running a secret defence class under Umbridge's nose - which _you_ took delight in dismantling, I ought to add - and fearing for the lives of everyone I know, yeah." I list off, letting my past bitterness at the situation bleed into my words. 

"So you really had access to his mind then?" Malfoy asks, as though he can't help himself. 

"Yeah. That's why I had all those fits in classes, by the way." I point out. 

"Yeah, that definitely figures better than you suddenly going barmy, I suppose." Malfoy says, still with that small hesitant smile on his face. 

"Gee thanks." I laugh dryly. Malfoy tips his head, smiling over the edge of his wineglass. As he moves, the light catches on raised skin over his throat and I stop laughing immediately. "Is that-" 

"Your parting gift from sixth year? Yes. Don't worry; it's barely noticeable and I usually keep it covered with a glamour anyway." He says, raising a delicate hand to brush his fingers over the scar tissue. "Speaking of glamours, you know you're still wearing yours, right?" 

At his words, I let my glamour drop. I sigh as I feel my magic settle again. Holding a glamour for too long always tends to take a toll on me. 

"Well, looks like we've both got our share of scars then." Malfoy says, his eyes taking in the scars he can see. 

My shirtsleeves are rolled up to my elbows, which puts on display the scar Wormtail gave me the night Voldemort was resurrected. On the back of my left hand, the scars from Umbridge's blood quill stand out against my skin. Along my forearms, an array of burns and scrapes mar the flesh, mapping out old fights and domestic accidents. On my chest, right where my collar sits open, is the oval scar from the locket where it had melded to my flesh in Godric's Hollow. 

"I suppose we do." I say. There really isn't much else to it; I have my scars, I fought my battles, and now I work to pick up the pieces and move on. 

"Just another thing we have in common." Malfoy says, smiling now. 

"Have you been keeping a list?" I ask jokingly. I'm slightly stunned when he admits that yes, he has been keeping tabs. 

We finish dinner in a companionable silence, speaking only to ask about the meal. Once we're finished, and the dishes have been levitated to the sink to be washed later, Malfoy asks me to join him in the sitting room. I follow him easily, and sit with him on the couch. 

"I suppose this is the part where we dredge up that unpleasant history and put it to rest properly." He says, and I'm rather glad he said it so I wouldn't have to. 

"Where should we begin then?" I ask. 

"Madam Malkin's, I think." He says. "I ought to apologise." 

"We both have a ridiculous amount of things to be sorry for, Mal- _Draco."_ I say, reminding myself to use his given name. "If we were to list everything we had against one another, we'd be here til Scorpius comes of age." 

"How do you suggest we proceed then, Harry?" He asks now. He meets my eyes unflinchingly. 

"How about I apologise for _those-"_ I point to his neck and chest. "And you  can apologise for your barbs against my parents?" 

"Is that all you want me to apologise for?" He asks. 

"What you said about my folks... that was the most painful thing you ever did to me, Draco. I don't need apologies for anything else." I tell him firmly. 

"Alright then." He says, drawing himself up straight, and meeting my eyes again. The sincerity in them startles me for a moment. "Harry, I am truly sorry for everything I said against your parents. As a child, I couldn't understand why your parents would die for you like they did; I knew mine would never do that much for me, and for a long time I thought it was a sign of weakness on your parents' side. I can see now how _ridiculously_ wrong I was. Your parents were never anything less than brave, and I am so sorry for ever suggesting otherwise." 

The depth of Draco's apology renders me speechless for a moment, and I'm stuck staring as though Stunned. 

"I- um..." I manage articulately. "I mean, thank you. I accept your apology." 

Draco tips his head in acknowledgement, and the movement highlights the scars again. 

"Will you take off your glamour? I remember the curse caught your face too." I say before I can stop myself. 

"Are you going to get all sentimental on me?" Draco groans, and I smile tightly. 

"Possibly. I need to see how much damage I caused." I say. 

"So you can beat yourself up about it?" He catches me out immediately. Nevertheless, the glamour drops, and so does my stomach. 

The scars along his throat are much more pronounced without the glamour in place, carving ridges along the pale skin. A pair of thin scars drag across the left side of his jaw, slanting down toward his chin. I can barely breathe just looking at them. I did that, I caused those scars. I can't bring myself to imagine what his torso must look like beneath his shirt. 

"I did this to you." I whisper in mortification. "Draco, I am so, _so_ sorry." 

"Don't you go getting misty eyed, Potter, they're just scars." Draco warns, shifting closer to me on the settee. 

"But _I_ put them there!" I say, desperation tinging my tone. 

"I was going to use an Unforgivable on you. Remember that part? I was going to torture you." 

"And I used an untested, unapproved curse on you without even considering the outcome. I think I win for Worst Idea of All Time." I say, my eyes dropping back to his throat. "I'm so sorry, Draco, I really am." 

"Tell me this one thing, Harry." Draco says, shifting closer again. "Did you intend to hurt me?" 

"No, but-"

"Did you intend to main or injure me?" 

"No-"

"Did you intend to kill me?" 

"No, Draco, I didn't, but-"

"So it's fine." Draco says, talking over me again. "You didn't mean for it to go that badly. I'm guessing you only meant to incapacitate me temporarily, yes?" 

"Yes, but I still-"

"You still had no idea what curse you were casting, nor what it would do." Draco interrupts again. "It's been known to happen before, you know." 

"Draco, I-" 

"I forgave you a long time ago." Draco keeps interrupting. "Almost a month afterwards, in fact." 

"Why the hell-" I begin, but Draco has moved even closer and now he reaches out and takes my hand in his. 

"I told you. You've been 'Harry' to me since we were fourteen. Ever since you out-flew a bloody _dragon._ I didn't know what it meant til I saw all those stupid articles about you and Granger being secretly in love." Draco says, and his voice is so soft now I have to lean in closer to hear him. He can't possibly be admitting what I _think_ he is... can he? "I was so worried, you know, when you went into the lake. I was absolutely bloody terrified for you. You have no idea... I was sure Zabini would throw me in the lake himself if I mentioned your name again. 

"But then you came up, and you'd saved two people instead of one, and that sealed it for me." Draco looks up at me now, meeting my eyes with a burning intensity I hadn't seen on him since school. "I'm pretty sure I fell in love with you then. And it seems as though sixteen years hasn't made a difference in that respect." 

"Draco-" I'm whispering again, and I can feel him shiver through our joined hands. 

"Can I kiss you, Harry?" He asks, and I barely manage to catch my breath before I'm nodding eagerly and Draco leans in to catch my mouth with his. Draco kisses the way he duels, dirty and thorough. I can't help but gasp when his free hand reaches up to tug at my hair. My hand goes to his waist, pulling him up and over so he straddles my lap instead. The new position gives me better access to all of him, and so my hands wander. 

Up his back and down his sides, my fingers slide in patterns over Draco's shirt as we kiss. He nips at my bottom lip and runs his tongue over it to soothe the sting. I open my mouth to him and our kisses deepen. I grip tightly to his hips when his hands drop to ghost over my chest, his fingers dipping under my collar lightly. 

He pulls away first, and I try to chase after his mouth, but he pushes me back against the couch. 

"Harry, I really hope you're not just having me on." He says breathlessly, and he's smirking, but there's a flicker of uncertainty in his gorgeous grey eyes. I reach up to cup his face, my thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. I want to tell him not to worry, to tell him that I'll never leave his side, but I can't.

"Draco, why do you think I put so much effort into following you around when we were sixteen?" I ask instead. 

"Well, I assumed because you were a bloody prat who enjoyed making me miserable?" Draco answers, and I chuckle. 

"Try, I was a bloody oblivious prat trying to explain away my obsession with watching you by claiming that you were up to something." I say, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes. "I never could keep my eyes off you. Especially when you were walking away from me. Did you know, your arse looks impeccable in Quidditch gear?" 

"You bloody perv." He laughs now, but grows serious quickly. "Really though. I've wanted this for so long, it's ridiculous. I need to know you're not doing this out of pity or for a quick shag." 

"Draco, listen to me." I wait til he meets my eyes before saying anything else. Once he does, I lower my Occlumency shields. I'd finally mastered the technique before moving to Australia. "Use Legilimency on me. See how serious I am about you for yourself." I tell him. 

"Harry, I-" 

"Please, Draco. I know you won't fully believe me otherwise, unless I let you feed me Veritaserum." I say. "And I want you to believe me. I want you, full stop." 

"Oh gods, Harry." Draco groans, and falls into me with another kiss, tender this time. When he pulls back at last and casts the spell, I let my thoughts drift. I'm not trying to keep him out, and I trust him not to dig in unpleasant places. 

Inevitably, my thoughts drift right towards him, and where I wanted the nights' events to progress. My fingers tighten on his hips subconsciously, and I see the flush rise in Draco's cheeks in response. I allow my imagination to run a little wild, supplying my mind's eye with a vision of Draco shirtless, his perfect creamy skin blemished only by the scars I put on him. The scars seem almost _possessive_ now, and it sends a slight thrill through me at the idea of marking Draco as _mine._

"Like that, do you?" Draco rasps above me, and I tune back into the world around me just as Draco drives his hips down against my crotch. 

"Shit, Draco, yes..." I hiss, raising my hips in answer. 

"You're a possessive little shit, aren't you. Look at you..." Draco breathes. His hands trail over my chest and down my stomach. "Getting off on the idea of having me to yourself..." 

"Gods, Draco..." I moan when his hips rotate over mine again. I'm so hard in my jeans it's almost painful. 

"How often do you think about this, I wonder? Is this a common wank fantasy for you, Potter?" He asks, and I dredge up as many of my remembered fantasies as I can, letting Draco read into each one. "On Snape's desk, Harry, _really?"_ He gapes at that one and I blush crimson. 

"As if you've never considered it." I say, smirking at him. I can feel him in my head, going through the other memories I've brought up for him. 

"Well now, that is a creative use for school scarves, I'll admit." Draco commends, and I moan as he brings that particular fantasy to the forefront of my mind. A hazy image of a teenage Draco tied to a Gryffindor bed by Slytherin scarves and ties, floats in front of my mind's eye. "Although perhaps we ought to allow for a simple alteration..." The image shifts, and suddenly it's me being tied up atop a marvellous four-poster bed, far larger and more opulent than anything at Hogwarts. I realise dimly that it must be _Draco's_ bed in this image, and I shudder with want. 

"Hm, maybe I'll store that one away for later, shall I?" Draco murmurs, moving on to another fantasy. His hips rock slowly against mine now, dragging the hard length of his clothed cock against my own trapped erection. It's a deliciously slow friction, and I need _more._

"Draco _please..."_ I whine, high in my throat, and he takes mercy on me at last, cancelling the Legilimency spell. 

"Please _what,_ Harry?" He prompts, slowing his hips even further. It must be torture for him too, but he stays composed. 

"Please touch me-" I gasp at the feeling of his hand curling possessively over my throat. It doesn't tighten or apply pressure. It just sits, a gentle weight over my Adam's apple. "Draco..." I whisper this time. 

He leans in and kisses me lightly, his lips barely brushing mine. 

"Tell me what you want, Potter." He mutters against my mouth, the hand on my throat keeping me in place. 

"I want- _oh god Draco-_ I want _you,_ damnit, _please!"_  I tighten my hands on his hips, wanting to force him to move against me. 

"Ask nicely, Potter, and maybe I'll be merciful." Draco says, and I nearly come just from his tone. The surety, the sheer confidence of it is almost heady. 

"Draco... _please..."_ Begging wasn't beneath me, not when it could lead to a mind-blowing orgasm the way I hoped it would. 

"Full sentences, come on." Draco leans in, putting pressure on my neck. Just enough to make me gasp and shake. "Ask. Me. Nicely." He punctuates each word with a roll of his hips, and my eyes roll up into my head at the delicious pleasure licking up my spine. 

"God, Draco, please let me come, _please."_ I babble. I need it now, I need the release. 

"Good boy." Draco praises, rolling his hips with purpose now. I'm not even remotely upset that I'll end up coming in my pants; I'm too busy revelling in the fact that Draco's practically _riding_ me to care. 

"More, please Draco-" I gasp as, with a flick of a wand, Draco vanishes our clothing completely. My hands clutch at bare flesh and I want to cry at the feeling of my prick rubbing along his unobstructed. 

"Two options for you now, Potter." Draco says, pulling his hips away from mine before I can even try to move. I whine at the loss, which in turn makes Draco chuckle. "Option number one, we keep doing this, and make a mess on your stomach together. Option number two, you let me ride you properly." I have to groan at that. 

"If I let you ride me, will you let me taste you?" I ask before I can really think my words over. Luckily for me, however, I seem to have picked the right words for once; Draco's eyes darken with lust and he crushes my mouth with a heavy kiss. He pulls back only far enough to whisper a couple of charms I memorised some time in sixth year, and heaves himself forward in my lap. 

He reaches behind himself and takes hold of my cock, angling it up to his entrance. I steady him with my hands, and lower him slowly onto my cock, falling in love with the way he fits around me so perfectly. 

"Gods, Draco, _yes..._ fuck you're so perfect-" I manage to gasp out right before he tightens his grip on my throat for a second. 

"Behave." He growls and _oh god,_ I nearly come right there. Draco rolls his hips experimentally, and my head drops back on the couch with a groan. I feel him lift up slowly before dropping back down, impaling himself deeply. He finds a rhythm, and rolls his hips faster, burying me further inside him each time. 

"Draco-" I break off as Draco pulls up and circles his hips sharply, with just my tip buried in his ass. He clenches tightly and I arch up, so close to coming, if he could just do _that_ again- 

"Harry, oh _fuck,_ yes!" Draco cries as he drops back down, his hips angled just right so my cock slams into his prostate each time. He pulls up again. "Fuck me, Harry, gods, _fuck me."_ He demands, and I waste no time in anchoring my feet so I can thrust up into his willing body. 

I keep going, building up a frantic pace, needing to come. Draco reaches down to tug on his own cock, trying to get himself off with me. 

He comes first, splashing my stomach and chest with his come, and clenching tightly around me. I thrust up a few more times before arching up sharply and coming with a wheeze. He keeps clenching around me, milking me through my orgasm. 

We collapse together onto the couch, and Draco pushes himself up into a sitting position, my cock softening inside him. He dips a finger through the mess he made on my skin, scooping up some of his come and bringing it to my lips. I open my mouth obediently and suck the bitter fluid from his finger. His eyes are still glazed and dark, and I nip at his finger lightly as he withdraws it. 

"Do you have to be home soon?" He asks, and his voice is so deep and rough, I wish I could get it up for a round two right away. 

"Hermione's got my boys tonight." I say. 

"Stay?" He requests. 

"What about Scorpius?" I ask. 

"He has preschool tomorrow; his mother's picking him up." Draco says, and his hand runs up my arm. 

"And she won't hex my balls off for this?" I raise my eyebrow, and Draco laughs. 

"Firstly, she couldn't even if she wanted to; she's a Muggle." I gape at him, and he grins. "Yes, I know, look at Malfoy slumming it." 

"Shove off, I was just surprised." I say, a smile of my own lifting my lips. 

"I know." Draco leans in and kisses me briefly. "Now, _secondly,_ Scorpius wasn't a natural conception. Tori and I opted for artificial insemination." 

"How come?" I ask foolishly. 

"How come, he asks, with his cock in my ass." Draco laughs, and his walls clench and release around my prick. "I'm very, very gay, you see." He says seriously. "But I wanted a child, and Tori is a good friend." 

"So she's your surrogate then?" I ask. 

"Yeah, pretty much. But Scorpius still gets to see her and spend time with her. He's okay with it." Draco says, a soft smile on his face as he talks about his son. 

"Fair enough. James is at the age now where he asks about his mum pretty much weekly..." I sigh. "How do you explain to a six year old that his mother left for no good reason?" 

"Is that what happened?" Draco asks. 

"Basically. We had Artie- our youngest, he's four now- and then Ginny decided she wanted out. She quit her job and went travelling with Charlie." I sigh. This is so not the conversation I wanted to have post-orgasm. 

"Wow... I know, you can tell him she's an explorer. It'll keep him interested enough trying to figure out everywhere she's been, he won't have time to wonder why she's not here." Draco says, and I have to admit it's a brilliant idea. 

"She's back in England now, apparently. She wrote to Ron last week." I say. 

"She wrote to her brother, but not to the father of her children?" Draco asks, a hint of steel in his voice. 

"Draco, it's fine. Things ended awkwardly between her and me anyway; I'd sooner expect a love letter from Snape than a letter of any kind from Ginny." I say, and I sound bitter. I know I do. 

"Well, since you bring up Snape... what's this now about his _desk?"_ Draco shifts the topic, and I'm grateful, however now I'm also blushing like a virgin watching porn for the first time. 

"I, um... well..." I stammer over my words, and Draco seems to get more and more confident as I do. 

"Were you imagining some kinky student-teacher situation, Potter?" He drawls, leaning close and nipping my earlobe. 

"More like detention hate-sex, actually." I correct him, catching his mouth with my own and kissing him deeply. 

"How many of these dirty little fantasies did you have, hm?" Draco asks, rolling his hips and I feel my cock stir with interest within him. He feels it too, and grinds down harder. "How many times did you think of this?" 

"God, so many times, Draco. You have no idea... I wanted to take you in the locker room showers a few times, make you scream for me so our teams could hear how much you gagged for it." I groan. 

"I wish you had. I would've bent over anywhere for you. I'd've let you take me in the middle of Hogsmeade if you wanted to." Draco tells me, and if _that's_ not wank material for the next ten years... 

"God Draco, you have no idea what you do to me..." I say, holding him close. 

"Pretty sure I have a good guess." He chuckles, clenching his ass around my renewed erection. 

"You look so gorgeous like this, Draco... wanna keep you just like that forever." I sigh as Draco moves slowly over my cock, fucking himself leisurely. 

"You could, you know. I wouldn't say no." He suggests. 

"Draco-" 

 _"Stay."_ He requests once more, and this time I hear the desperation in his voice loud and clear. 

"For how long?" I ask with a smile. 

"Forever?" 

"Sounds perfect." 

\----

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't even meant to be this long! Ah, I was aiming for a quick 2k fic, but here we are 10k later. I hope you enjoyed it, though!  
> NOTE: I picked Darwin for the setting because it's the only place in Australia with which I am familiar enough to write in detail. I live in Darwin, so... I know the place pretty well, I reckon. (Also, yes, The Sound of Music is a real store, and one of the doorjambs IS actually sculpted in the shape of a piano. And the black and green snake guitar? A real design I saw once a couple weeks ago, and I fell in love)  
> Please feel free to leave comments and kudos are welcomed. Love y'all x


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